When real life intrudes

This seems to be as good a time as any to remind you that, although the It's About TV channel on YouTube doesn't have a lot of content, it does have a playlist devoted to the Christmas programs that comprise such a part of the holiday memories you and I share. These shows, along with a healthy number of movies, animated specials, and variety shows, will make up the bulk of our television viewing for the next month. I first made this available last year, and since then I've been able to add several new programs, which I hope you'll enjoy as much as we do.

But let's take a time out from our Yuletide festivities to look back a couple of weeks at Thanksgiving. It does sometimes seem as if Thanksgiving gets short shrift, a metaphorical speed bump on the way to Christmas, although the recent trend away from having stores open on Thanksgiving seems to have scaled back. But back in the day, when variety shows were common, it was also common to have Thanksgiving-themed shows on or near the holiday, and today we'll take In a look at couple of these shows, ones that have a time capsule significance apart from their entertainment value. 

I've written about time capsule moments before, those moments that provide us a glimpse into what the world was like when these shows were aired. They're more subtle than surface appearances like hair and clothing styles, or the kinds of music being played; oftentimes they're left unsaid, requiring the viewer to read between the lines, and if you're not able to put the show into the context of when it was aired, it you might miss it altogether.

One such moment occurred on the Thanksgiving episode of The Jimmy Dean Show, which, appropriately enough, aired on Thanksgiving night, November 28, 1963. It's a fun episode, with the McGuire Sisters, the Jubliee Four, Don Adams, the Crum Brothers, and Rowlf, the Muppet dog who was a regular on the show. Adams contributes a very funny bit where he plays a defense attorney, and a charming scene in which Jimmy and Rowlf talk about what there is to be thankful for. 

The moment comes near the very end of the show, and you have to listen for it. The entire cast has just finished singing "Home for the Holidays," and the spotlight falls on Jimmy. Against a dark background, he sings the Gospel song "How Long Has It Been?" and then, after a breath and with some evident emotion, he says, "It's been a trying week, on the entire world. Sometimes, things look very black. But may we all remember that we still have a great deal to be thankful for." The cast then reunites to sing, "Bless This House."  

That could be taken as nothing more than a normal, if somewhat darker than usual, reflection on the state of the world, and the need to be thankful for what you have. But it has a much more significant meaning when you place it in historical context. It had indeed been a trying week; the last time the show had aired, on November 21, John F. Kennedy was president of the United States, and spending the weekend in Texas. Since then, Kennedy had been assassinated, his accused assassin had been murdered, and Kennedy had been laid to rest. The funeral and burial took place on Monday, November 25; the new president, Lyndon Johnson, delivered a speech to the nation two days later, on Wednesday, November 27. It's now Thanksgiving Day, but it was a somber one for most people, who very well might have wondered what there was to be thankful for. Yeah, that was a hell of a trying week.

I don't know when this show was taped, and I'd love to find that out. It could be that it had been taped days in advance, and Dean had returned to the studio to record his comments, after which the scene faded to merge with the ending as originally recorded. It's also possible that the show had been done that very week, a day or two before Thanksgiving. Either way, it seems obvious to me that Dean felt it imperative to address the situation, and that he did so in a heartfelt manner, with a couple of sentences that didn't require any other explanation—everyone back then would have known to what he was referring. Regardless, it's a very powerful moment, an intrusion of the real world into the world of entertainment.

The second example comes from an Alan King Thanksgiving special that aired on Tuesday, November 25, 1980, two days before Thanksgiving. Its subtitle is, "What Have We Got to be Thankful For?" and it plays into the acerbic, "kidding-but-not-really-kidding" humor that King was known for. Watching it this year, I have to admit I'd forgotten about some of the events King references, including the infamous Abscam investigation that caught several members of Congress trying to sell their influence in return for large amounts of cash. No wonder King suggests in his opening monologue that there has been "a breakdown of moral fiber."

King goes on to take shots at the economy (bad), the recent actors' strike and the fall TV schedule (bad), and a growing sense that Americans are becoming apathetic to it all. There are several references to the election of the new president, Ronald Reagan, which gets sustained applause from the studio audience. There's also an extended, and very funny, bit in which King attempts to explain the madness of the Middle East in 1980, including the war between Iran and Iraq, the growing involvement of the Soviet Union (including in Afghanistan!), and other complications that remind us how the Middle East has always been a tinderbox and a mess. And that leads to our second moment.

In a show filled with topical humor, it can be hard to identify a moment that can be said to travel under the radar, but it comes, again, at the end of the show, as King concludes with a prayer for the nation, for  both the incoming and outgoing presidents (itself something you probably wouldn't see nowadays), and for the viewers, he adds, "If I can ask for an old favor that you granted us once before, see if you can get the Ayatollah [Khomeini] to let our people go."

That's right—the hostage crisis! It's easy to forget that the hostages hadn't yet been freed; that wouldn't come until January 20 of the following year, after Reagan had been sworn in as president. And remember that, although we all know how things turned out, nobody knew that back in November, 1980. I don't recall whether or not King had explicitly mentioned the hostages prior to that moment; I kind of doubt it; it isn't the kind of thing you'd joke about. No, this is a subtle, but knowing, reference to an event that was, again, hanging over everything. It's also heartfelt, as opposed to a bid for cheap applause; bipartisan, rather than attempting to score points. I don't know if entertainers would handle it that way today.

Maybe I make too much of moments like these, but I think there's value to them. They remind us that television is a part of history—our shared history—and that, like anything else in history, it doesn't occur in a vacuum. Television, like other forms of entertainment, often seems to come from the world of make-believe (and there definitely isn't anything real about reality television), but every once in a while, the real world shows itself, and when that happens, it's worth remembering. 

These shows can be found on the Christmas playlist as well, and I'll be adding more as the opportunity arises. TV  

Around the dial

It's Christmas in July at Joanna's Christmas TV History, and while you ought to check out all of the entries so far, I'll single out Wednesday's entry from 1958's Cimarron City, with star George Montgomery and special guest star Dinah Shore, aka Mrs. George Montgomery. 

At Comfort TV, David has a very thoughtful piece on how television needs to be an oasis, a break from the increasing lunacy of the real world. This is something I really identify with, and in fact David very kindly mentioned me in his article. But this is a well-written example of why classic television is so different from television today—and oftentimes, for the better.

Remember The Delphi Bureau? Before it became a short-lived series in 1972-73 (as part of the wheel series The Men), it was a 1972 made-for-TV movie, with the terrific Laurence Luckinbill as a spy on the run, and Cameron Mitchell as the baddie out to get him. Rick takes a look at this watchable pilot in this week's Classic Film & TV Café.

I defy anyone—anyone—to resist an episode of any television series with the title "Invasion of the Earthmen." When it's The Avengers, that makes the episode all the more interesting, and John tells us why it isn't anywhere near as bad as some make it out to be, at Cult TV Blog. 

The Untouchables remains one of my favorite series (especially the episodes with Bruce Gordon as Frank Nitti), and this week Television's New Frontier: the 1960s looks at the state of the series as the final season begins in 1962, as well as giving us a fascinating, in-depth look at the show's history and its relationship to the facts.

I don't think I exaggerate when I suggest that "The Hitch-Hiker" is one of the most memorable and most popular of Twilight Zone episodes; at Shadow & Substance, Paul goes in-depth, much as Jack does at bare•bones e-zine, and shows how Rod Serling skillfully adapted Lucille Fletcher's radio play into one of the series' most unsettling dramas. Hint: it's not what he does, but what he doesn't do.

The Twilight Zone was just one of the many series with the good fortune to have had an episode or two directed by Richard Donner, who died this week, aged 91. Although he had great big screen success with movies like The Omen, Superman, Lethal Weapon and Scrooged, he left his mark on television not only with TZ, but shows like Have Gun—Will Travel, Route 66, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Ironside, and so many more. Terence has an appreciation of his career at A Shroud of Thoughts. 

Finally, I'm a little late with this, but July 1 was "Lost TV Day" at Television Obscurities—find out why Robert chose that date, and follow the links to some fascinating posts on an under-appreciated part of television history. I, of course, approve heartily. TV  

The consoling presence of television

It used to be said, before the internet made a hash of things, that there were three topics one never discussed in social settings due to their tendency to provoke: sex, politics, and religion. Well, we all know how that’s turned out, and one thing has to be admitted about old sayings—they’re often right.

What brought on this philosophical rumination? Well, the news really has been ghastly lately, if you’re the type that keeps up with these things. I won’t go into any details about just what they are or how ghastly they’ve been (see first paragraph for details), but suffice it to say that I’m not the only one who feels this way. The headlines tell us that more people seem to be depressed, anxious, or on edge about the world today. (Yes, I know they’re the same headline writers who tell us how bad everything is, which suggests something of a conflict of interest since the one type of headline would appear to be responsible for the other, but in the case of making us all Nervous Nellies, they appear to be right.) Under the circumstances, some light form of entertainment would seem to be called for, and since entertainment doesn’t get much lighter than television—and, after all, this is a website about television—it’s not surprising that this is one of the directions I head in when everything else gets to be a bit too much.

One of the knocks against contemporary television, and it’s a knock I’ve used more than once, is that it’s heavy, dark, nihilistic. That’s not to say that there isn’t a time or place for heavy, dark television; I’m rather fond of it myself. But television programs today can also be subversive, not in the creative sense of subverting our expectations, for example, which is what good mystery writers do, but in subverting ideals, values, even the very definitions of things which we as a society used to hold in common. (That is, when we had a common society in the first place.) Television, we have to admit, must bear its own share of accountability for helping make things the way they are, whether by creating the trends or simply promoting them. If you’re any longer in doubt of this, two words: Love Island. I rest my case.

Having read back what I’ve just written, though, I’m afraid that, rather than providing you with an escape for you from the pressing demands of the world, I’m probably just making things worse. That won’t do at all. So I’ll get back to the point that I started out to make in the first place, which is that one can still find, in the words of my friend David Hofstede, “Comfort TV.” Think of it as something to make you feel better, to give you that warm glow that you’ve been missing lately, like a bowl of mac and cheese. (Unless you’re lactose intolerant, that is, in which case I’m afraid I can’t help you, but perhaps one of the medical shows out there can.) For this, you don’t need to look any further than DVDs, streaming video, and even the occasional new show, and you can do it all without bingeing.

If you get the Smithsonian Channel and you don’t watch in on a regular basis, shame on you. There are some really quite fascinating programs there, shows that will get you interested in things you never thought you were interested in, and then hook you into watching four or five seasons’ worth without getting up from the couch. As with anything, don’t put 100% credence into what you see, but the shows tend to be more accurate than, say, the average article on Wikipedia. Lately, I’ve been watching Apollo’s Moon Shot, a history of America’s manned space program leading up to the moon landings. This was an obvious choice for me since I’ve been a space buff from the time I was little, but even though an entire 60 minutes can go by in which I’ll learn only one new thing that I didn’t know before, that one item is often enough to justify the whole series. Did you know, for example, that on the Apollo 10 flight (the dress rehearsal for Apollo 11), the LM started spinning around violently while separated from the Command Module? I didn’t know that either, or at least didn’t remember it, but hearing a cool customer like Tom Stafford exclaim, “Son of a bitch!” tells you all you need to know about how serious the situation could have been. And it is nice to go back to a time of big dreams and heroic figures. The series has now wrapped up, but if you get Smithsonian, keep a close eye out for reruns; they're on all the time.

If you’re a fan of Sherlock Holmes, you’re probably most familiar with one of two versions: Jeremy Brett or Basil Rathbone. You might have seen Ronald Howard’s version, which is pretty affordable, and pretty good. But have you ever seen the portrayal by Douglas Wilmer*? If not, you’re in for a treat; Wilmer’s take, from 1965-66. casts Holmes as serious, sarcastic, determined, with an arrogance that is both bracing and fully justified. Dr. Watson, played Nigel Stock, is still a boob, but more bumptious than stupid—after all, the man is an M.D. Fewer than a dozen of the episodes still exist, but they’re collected in a DVD set that I think you’ll really like, because I do.

*And don't be intimidated by the price; I found my copy for less than $10.00 at Half Price Books.

And who out there doesn’t like a good Nazi documentary? Seriously, they’re everywhere (except YouTube, which confoundingly classifies much of its Hitler material as “hate speech” and bans it; I don’t know anything that brings home the evil of the Nazi regime more than their own words, so this is about as counterproductive as you can get), and while you can find a lot of documentaries on World War II, I find that the most interesting are those that focus on the Germans, specifically the Nazi party. Unless you see Hitler and Goebbels, unless you learn about the Treaty of Versailles, unless listen to what happened at the Wannsee Conference, you don't really know World War II, and you can't understand how a civilized country like 20th Century Germany could fall into the Dark Ages. Watch the brilliant TV-movie Conspiracy with Kenneth Branagh as Reinhard Heydrich and Stanley Tucci as Adolf Eichmann; the powerful Downfall with Bruno Ganz in a towering portrayal of Hitler; or several of the Hitler documentaries on—you guessed it—Smithsonian.* It's perhaps the least comforting of this comfort TV, but you'll be fascinated by it. And, considering how loosely the word is thrown around today, you'll find out what real Nazis were like.

*While you're at it, read Philip Kerr's Bernie Gunther novels and learn about Germany before, during, and after the war.

There are any number of series out there that provide good fun; The Wild Wild West, with Robert Conrad and Ross Martin; The Persuaders!, a blind buy that was surprisingly good, with Tony Curtis and Roger Moore; the aforementioned Coronet Blue with Frank Converse; and Kolchak: The Night Stalker, which is lots of fun and answers the question, "What if the Old Man from A Christmas Story hunted vampires?" Maybe you've never asked that question, but watching this will make you wonder why you didn't ask it before.

Television has always been a wonderful source of entertainment, a way to escape the pressures of real life, or to make that life more interesting than it was before. It's easy to bash TV, and quite often that bashing is deserved. But all it requires is a judicious use of judgment, a sizable chunk of common sense, and a willingness to be challenged. Believe me, I'm glad I have it today. TV